


Nightmare before Christmas

by ecapss



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Halloween, Holidays, House Party, M/M, anti is an absolute menace but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecapss/pseuds/ecapss
Summary: Mark is the, festive type.Anti however is fucking sick of his bullshit





	1. The good, the bad, and the tacky

**Author's Note:**

> Do i get worlds latest fic award?

“How about a vampire?” 

Anti takes a deep breath, willing himself out of responding like a total asshole. The sentiment alone should earn him a nobel peace prize with the absolute bullshit that is dealing with Mark during the holidays. Since the discovery that Anti never dresses up for halloween, Mark's been obsessed with planning the demons outfit for their upcoming party. Unsatisfied with the usual “ripped jeans and a stolen hoodie”, he’s launched a mission of irritation, attacking Anti with picture after picture of generic, childish costumes that make him want to strangle his boyfriend until halloween attire is the last of his concerns. Completely blind to Anti’s clear lack of enthusiasm, or pretending to be, Mark charges on.

“Like with cool fangs!”

Anti flashes a grin slightly too wide, static cutting out the television and interrupting their movie as he turns to face his ~~victim~~ boyfriend.

“I’ve already got sharp teeth babe,”

He snaps his mouth shut to prove his point, enjoying the way Mark tenses at the click. Anti’s never gotten used to how comically open Mark’s expressions are, amused to push it a little further.

“You’re the one always askin’ me to bite you, shouldn't you know that by now?”

Anti bites his tongue to keep from laughing at Mark’s embarrassed blush. There isn’t long to admire it before he covers his ears and dives against Anti’s chest. It’s a ridiculous response, and while he’s disgusted by how endearing he finds it, he automatically moves to wrap his arms around the hiding man.

“Okay, okay!” Mark grumbles, resting his head on Anti’s shoulder.

“No vampires."

* * *

“Werewolf?”

Without looking up from the screen, Anti holds a hand up and flourishes his fingers to better display his long black nails. From the doorway Mark’s shoulders visibly drop with a huff, crossing his arms. It’s the pitiful puppy pout that finally pulls Anti’s attention from the computer, swirling his office chair to roll up in front of his salty boyfriend before gently tracing his nails down Mark’s chest.

“Again,” he looks up, wide blue eyes the perfect façade of innocent and winks,“you coulda checked the marks on your shoulders if you-”

“Shut up!”

Mark interrupts the teasing by shoving Anti’s hands away hard enough to roll the chair back across the room, manic cackling and flickering lights drowning out his stuttered explanation.

“Those aren't claws! They’re nails and you know it!”

Anti, still giggling, glitches behind a flustered Mark and quickly digs his nails into his hips.

“Counts.” 

Mark yelps, whirling around to an empty hallway, a very smug Anti already back in his chair casually typing as if he'd never moved. Mark narrows his eyes. 

“You’re going to cave eventually!” He glares.

“Nice try sweetheart," Anti blows an over dramatic kiss.

"but no werewolves.” 

* * *

“Zombie?” 

Anti groans, exhausted. Dramatically, he rolls from his side of the bed onto Mark’s chest, peering up at him with owlish, black eyes to see him better in the darkness. The sight of Anti’s messy hair and freckled shoulders, sleep softening the demon, makes Mark’s heart flutter.

Before being shot down with no remorse.

“Hun, I’m already green.” 

“Not zombie green!” He struggles for words, hands fumbling with the blankets edge as he tries to describe him in the darkness. “You’re like a light, pale, human looking green.”

Anti snorts.

“Is that Shakespeare? Your poetry enchants me. I-”

The sudden shift in Mark’s face startles him, as well as the tension in the shoulders under his hands. The sleepy air of humor drains into something sharp in Mark’s eyes that hurts Anti’s heart as he tries to retrace where the conversation fell. 

_Where he messed up._

Sure, he had been particularly harsh about Halloween. But Mark has a wonderful sense of humor, and had laughed off all of the other rejections. Mark finds joy in Anti’s rough personality no matter the time of year, something he doesn’t understand but is very much grateful for. In secret. Mark is a puppy, never staying upset for too long, but Anti also made efforts not to cut too deep. Satisfied his behavior wasn’t to blame, he turned his thoughts outwards to Mark. His insistence on celebrating holidays and other disgusting habits like honestly expressing emotions. 

A conversation comes to mind, one they had months ago, in which Mark quietly admitted he wasn’t very confident in his words. An insecurity of his, being unable to express himself properly, which Anti felt was ridiculous considering his job, pouring out his bleeding heart to millions of teens. He did his best to reassure his boyfriend that he sees him as anything but expressionless, perhaps to a fault, but connection has never been Anti’s strong suit. He still tries, subtly distracting the conversation when Mark drops from energetic toddler to dead silent at parties after a simple mix up or stutter. Angry at the way his lungs squeeze, Anti groans and rolls his eyes, barley visible besides the head jerk.

“I’m jokin’ you fucking loser. I understand what you're saying,” Mumbling, he nestles himself into Marks neck and smiles as his shoulders relax. “But it may confuse poor Robbie.”

The breathy laugh settles his thoughts, reassuring Anti and in his overly sleepy state that he hasn't hurt Mark. 

“So is that a yes?”

Stupid disgusting mushy feelings aside, he still isn't wearing a fucking costume.

“Over my undead body.”

* * *

Anti is wearing a fucking costume. 

He’s fucking snapped. Mark’s easygoing, accepting nature has been replaced with a seasonal monster that’s pushed Anti’s patience to the brink. He’s killed people for less. In fact, he has killed many people, many many people, for so much less. Mark’s about to join the list. As the dreaded day grows closer, Mark increases in dedication, attacking Anti so often his only true escape is in the shower. He closes his eyes, letting the warm water burn his scalp as he wills himself to hold it together for a few more nights and not murder his boyfriend of which he was far too fond.

The peace lasts three seconds.

“Anti!” The bathroom door slams against the wall, power immediately cutting out throughout the entire house.

“Jesus fuckin’-” Panicking in the sudden darkness, the rising fear nauseates him in a way Anti isn't used too. His instincts take control, hands wrapped around his attackers throat before a choked “Sorry!” exposes their identity. Anti slides his hands down as a phone flashlight snaps on to illuminate Mark’s guilty expression, hand already gently placed over Anti’s as if he wasn’t about to be strangled. Anti knows he must look like murder, but doesn’t care. 

“You can’t ever pull that shit again. Fuck.” Furious, he shoves Mark’s worry away from him, snatching a robe around himself before storming out into the dark hallway. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t-” Anti whips around snarling, eyes pitch black.

“The house better be on fuckin’ fire for you to come barging in like that or your corpse is gonna be so mutilated they'll have to burry you in a mason jar.” 

Mark tilts his head.

“Like a smoothie?”

Anti nods, firm and serious.

“Exactly like a god damned smoothie.” 

The tension hangs before dissolving into fits of laughter. The absurdity of the moment is unavoidable, the silly threat, the trail of water now puddling in their hallway, the power outage. While it's arguably his most annoying feature, Anti is thankful for Mark’s ability to find humor in the demons rage. He’s glad it means Mark can put up with his shit when he can’t keep his temper, or fear, under control.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out, I just- ” Anti prepares himself, deciding to just agree on whatever bullshit costume Mark’s presenting now as an apology for his freakout. “You don’t wanna dress up because you’re already scary.”

He snaps his inky eyes open, hissing.

“Excuse me?” 

Mark is delighted, waving his hands.

“See! Your costume can’t cover that, it has to match!”

Anti’s cold, tired, and still coming off the adrenaline high. Despite his best efforts, he checks to find he still loves his boyfriend. A lot. He doesn’t say it, or act like it, but Anti is so deeply in love with the fool it scares him. 

Which is why he catches one of Mark’s gesturing hands and pulls it to his face, craving comfort while he comes down from the scare. He’s freezing and soaking wet, but the warm hand cupping his chin help him remember why murder isn’t the solution to him being the most done with another person he's ever been. 

“You think I’m scary?” Mark blushes, visibly nervous as he struggles with his words. Anti smiles. “Good. Now spit it out before I get the blender.”

Mark holds out his phone. Anti studies the image on the screen.

“You are fuckin’ unbelievable. A crazed lunatic of a dumb bitch.”

Anti, overwhelmed with the absolute idiocy of his boyfriend, leans up to kiss him. His phone falls to the ground, Mark shocked into dropping it and plunging them back into darkness. Neither can tell who started, but soon they’re both breathless with laughter. They both just have that contagious type, making it easy to end up with burning stomachs in a lose hug because Mark refuses to admit he’s completely lost in the dark.

“So, is that a yes?”

The lights in the house turn back on.


	2. And the daydream after that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blame Ghosty entirely for the ending of this.

Holidays are considered neutral ground, meaning the annual halloween party is one of the only days everyone comes together peacefully. Jack wears all black, carrying a lantern and laughing with Dark in the corner, in an old suit of his that resembles a 1920’s mobster. 

Wilford also wears 1920’s themed attire, just, sluttier. He happily dances with a Bing in a Google costume and Robbie, a very happy astronaut. Chase and Jackieboy Man both arrived as Spiderman, confusing everyone greatly throughout the night until Chase put his baseball hat on over the mask. Bim, average attire plus devil horns and a tail gossips with Google dressed as Connor near the snack table with Host in a elaborately detailed Cecil costume. The Doctors, very pleased with their Jekyll and Hyde costumes, prepare food in the kitchen. Yandere, clearly Harley Quinn, had left early, pulling King in a gorilla suit to trick or treat with Chase and his kids.

Astonishingly, the night was going smoothly before Anti and Mark arrive, significantly late. 

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for you guys!” Jack opens the door to a very sheepish Mark, obviously a pirate with a classic wide hat and boots. “Come on in.”

“Sorry we’re late, had to-” He’s interrupted as Anti pushes past Mark into the house, patting Jack on the shoulder.

“There’s real alcohol right? I was promised none of that college beer shit.” 

Jack pauses. Anti rarely attends communal events, but showing up in costume was a first for everyone. His curled hair has been gelled back, giving it a wet effect as it frames silver hoops in one ear. Like Mark, he also has a pirate shirt, but his is torn and unbuttoned, pushed up at the sleeves to display webbed fingers and prosthetic gills along his neck. There’s a mesmerizing effect to his appearance, black eyes adding to the odd otherworldly beauty of Anti’s costume. It takes Jack a moment to piece it together.

The pirate and his very pleased siren. 

Dark is unimpressed, appearing silently behind Jack like a shadow.

“Says the underage lightweight as if he knows anything about proper drinks.”

Jack and Mark shoot each other a glance as Anti grins and steps closer. 

“I think the poorly packaged Al Capone doll’s a bit confused,” Anti snatches the glass from Darks hand and downs it before grimacing and throwing it somewhere behind him. Mark cringes at the crash, silently shooting a grateful nod to Dr. Iplier as he moves to clean the mess. “I know it’s all you had back during prohibition, but gin tastes like your ego. Old and bitter.”

Mark, hiding a laugh behind his hand starts to step forward to try and water down the conversation. Jack shakes his head, distrustful of the gleam in Dark’s eyes.

“You weren't complaining back when-“

“We get it, you used to fuck. Boring.” A very nonplussed Wilford appears between them, sloshing a martini and effectively killing the rising tension. “This costume however, is anything but! Anti boy, you look great. Nice to see you’ve finally joined the party!”

“Nice to see you’ve never left.” The two laugh, crazy meeting crazy, and Mark can tell Dark is irritated by Wilford’s easy intervention. He nods at Jack who smiles back, silently pulling Dark’s attention back to their conversation away from the dance floor.

The night continues on far better then anyone could have hoped, Wilford’s unwavering energy moving things along nicely. Anti dances with him until he finds Mark again, pulling him into the excitement until they're both too drunk to keep wandering hands to themselves and the lights are so dim it doesn’t matter much anyway.

Anti isn’t too sure about the details after, letting Mark handle the goodbye’s as they finally make their way home. He’s too focused on the light touches to his waist, eventually firming to pull him into a cuddle before bed. Being as wasted and touch starved as he is, Anti can’t come up with enough reasons not to. Thinking of more hurts his head, so he stops, letting Mark’s breathing and soft lines traced on his skin lull him to sleep.

“So about Christmas-” 

Anti digs his nails into any available skin he can find, earning a satisfying squeak.

His patience can only last so long.

“One more word from your mouth and Santa will be the only one coming before January.”

* * *

Jack knows it would be a very bad idea to laugh. Dark loathes nothing more then being the punchline, upholding his reserved and cut off character no matter the circumstances.

Except Dark hadn’t been sleeping that week. He had also been drinking heavily throughout the night. The man can hold his own against sleep deprivation or alcohol, but both at the same time results in an casually affectionate atmosphere that Jack can't describe any other way than adorable. Despite claiming to despise cuddling, Dark had pulled Jack into his chest the moment they got home from the party, petting his hair absentmindedly during their annual horror movie marathon that Jack insists on every year. 

And usually Jack would appreciate the moment, enjoy the short period Dark’s decides to let his guard down and doze off, but something about the night stuck with him. Sure, he’d been surprised by the new couple, dying to ask Mark a million questions when the two next get together, but it seemed like more than curiosity to Dark. Jack, typically confident in his abilities to read past Dark’s expressionless demeanor, was worried he was jealous.

Of Mark. For being with Anti.

They’ve never directly addressed it, but Jack was under the impression they were, well together. A thing. He’d had a key to Dark’s place for a few years at this point, and for a man who values privacy shouldn't that be a big deal? _Did he look to much into it?_

He blames his own fears but brings it up anyway, silently begging Dark to prove him wrong.

“Well that’s sure one way to announce you’re dating huh?” Dark hums, a noise of protest as Jack pulls back from his chest to talk face to face.

“Who dear?” 

“Mark and Anti?” Confused, Jack tries to explain through a mistimed yawn. “Matching costumes are pretty much a couple only thing. Did you seriously not catch that?”

He shrugs.

“I assumed Anti was trying to be a slut. Didn’t notice Mark much at all.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be super observant?”

Dark scoffs, running a hand though his messed hair.

“Only of people that are important. Why would I find Anti or his relationships significant?”

The answer is easy and incredibly, incredibly obvious. Jack’s monotone reply says as much.

“Because you're a possessive bastard?”

“Of what’s mine, which I was under the impression you were until this odd fascination with Anti’s sex life.”

“I’m not- you were the one who was mad at him!”

Now it's Dark' turn to state the obvious.

“My love, I’m mad at him because he’s a fucking idiot, not because who he's fucking.” He grumbles a tired laugh, “When it comes to that-”

Dark clears his throat to cover the hesitation.

“I suppose I’d prefer to concern myself with you.”

It doesn’t work to cover his fuck up in the slightest. Jack finally lets out the affectionate laugh.

“Concerning yourself is an odd way of saying you care about me, D.” When there isn’t an immediate rejection, Jack continues in a childish song, relieved immensely by Dark’s confession. “Wow, you're so drunk you can’t even deny this time. You love me.”

“I-” Dark freezes, visibly uncomfortable before puling Jack back to his chest with a whine. “Jack c'mon.”

He shakes his head, deciding to pull back from his teasing. Pulling Dark down this path drunk only leads to emotional distress or complete shut down, both of which Jack takes pains to avoid. He snuggles back into Dark’s chest to save him the anxiety of eye contact, letting the topic go.

“Don’t think so much, it doesn’t suit you.” He kisses against Dark’s neck, pleased at the soft hum response. 

“Noted. Did you enjoy the party love?”

Okay, maybe Jack lied.

“Mhm, already know what were gonna be next year.”

He wasn’t fully done teasing.

“We?”

And Dark hears the grin, clear as a bell in Jack’s voice. The stubborn, persistent force that keeps surprising Dark, keeps challenging him day after day. The love, the fondness, but above all, the absolute menace that he’s fallen victim too.

“Well I can’t let Mark have all the couple costume fun now can I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roast me at ecapss i never post sorrrrryyyyyyy <#333333


End file.
